Piracy
by PotatoJerk
Summary: 'I was a pirate once...'  England recalls his life as a pirate and gets some help from a few... friends, to convince a certain american.
1. Prologue: Not a Pirate

England was sipping his tea, relaxing slightly. His old bones could not take much more of that overenthusiastic American idiot.

He thought back on the day...

~.o0o.~

"Hey, Iggy! Do you know anything about pirates?" America had asked, loud as usual.

"Yes, I do." England had responded, "Ask me anything."

"Okay, I'll say the names of pirates and you tell me their real name and nationality!" America shouted, possibly even more hyper now.

"Fair enough..." England sighed, a resigned scowl on his face, "Go ahead."

"Black Beard," America said, a deadly serious expression on his face.

"Edward Teach," England said, the name coming to his mind easily, "English."

"Grace O'Malley," America said, already struggling to think of pirates that wouldn't be as easy as Black Beard.

"...Gráinne Ní Mháille," England said, after a moment of silence. His brother, Patrick had told him about that one; bragged about his pirate queen, "Irish."

"Black Bart?"

"...Bartholomew Roberts," Daniel had taken credit for that one so it would be safe to say- "Welsh..."

"Henry Every?" America raised his eyebrow at England, barely able to believe that he could remember the man's name.

"...Henry Avary; just as English as Teach was..."

"Henry Morgan?" America asked halfheartedly, trying to stump the older nation.

"Admiral Sir Henry Morgan," England said easily, "Welsh." The smaller nation smirked, "and he wasn't a pirate; he was a privateer which was completely different, and authorized by the government."

"Whatever." America scoffed, "Calico Jack?"

"John Rackham," England answered right away, "English..."

"Red Beard?"

This one took England a bit longer to recall, "...Barbaros Hayreddin, Ottoma-" he stopped himself, then continued, acting as if he had not paused at all, "Turkish."

"Captain Kidd?"

"William Kidd," England said confidently, "Scottish."

"...Blue Beard?"

"Myth," England said immediately, glaring at the other nation.

"WHAT? How do YOU know he's a myth?"

"Because," England sighed, "I was a pirate once..."

"I don't believe that for a second!" America said, smirking.

"Oh, really, now?" England asked, raising a single thick eyebrow at the younger nation.

"Hell no, I don't believe it!" America shouted, grinning triumphantly, "**You** could never have been a **pirate**, Iggy."

"My name is either **Arthur** or **England**, Wanker; get it right. I'll tell you what... I'll give you some stories about my days as a pirate... find some nations and such that can confirm it... and you can decide for yourself whether I was a pirate or not."


	2. Spanish Florida: Domingo Carriedo

England dragged America to Miami, and looked around for a moment. He spotted a young woman with close cropped black hair and tan olive-toned skin, and let go of America. America, being confused, almost asked England what he was doing, but the woman was on her way over.

"Hola, Inglaterra! (Hello, England!)" she said, grinning.

"Hola, querida Domingo. ¿Cómo estás en este buen día? (Hello, dear Domingo. How are you this fine day?)" England responded, smiling slightly.

"Mucho mejor, ahora que estás aquí, pero por qué traer a América? Es muy lejos de la cuarta, por le que no debería estar aquí... a menos que ustedes tienen una razón para estar aquí juntos? (Much better, now you're here, but why bring America? It is very far from the fourth, so that should not be here... unless you have reason to be here together?)"

America suddenly recalled where he'd seen the woman's face; she was-

"Florida, América necesita para aprender todo lo que sabes acerca de La generosidad del Mar, no parece creer que yo era una vez un pirata. Dile a Juan y Juana. (Florida, America needs to learn everything you know about the Sea's Bounty; he doesn't seem to believe that I was once a pirate. Tell him about John and Jane.)"

"Yes, sir," she said, speaking English for America's benefit.

Florida began her tale and you could almost see the glint in her eye... the remains of a cabin boy aboard the most powerful Pirate ship that ever existed... The Sea's Bounty.

~.o.~

~1595~

I hurried around the port, trying to get everything on my master's list. I knew that he wouldn't raise his hand to me, but the other crew members didn't know I was a girl and I couldn't have them stripping me down for flogging and finding out.

I hadn't been taken so much as bought... one of the crew mates had bought me from a slave master in Miami and given me to my Master. Master was a good man, though; I could trust him not to be evil to me.

...I actually preferred working aboard his ship to staying in Spanish Florida, much as Antonio told me that Master was a bad man who would kill me for fun.

Master wasn't like that.

I continued to get the things on the list and was stopped by a woman with long black hair.

"Hello, dearheart," she said in a soft calm voice.

"Err, um, Hullo, ma'am," I bowed my head, silently cursing that my English was accented with British (we were somewhere near Rhode Island at that time).

"What a sophisticated accent you have... it's very nice..." she said, smiling.

I blushed, "Th-thank you kindly, ma'am."

"Do you, by any chance, know a man named Arthur Kirkland?" she asked, still smiling.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you know where I could find him?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I cannot divulge that information. All I am allowed to say is that I am running an errand for Sir Kirkland."

"**Sir** Kirkland?" asked a man who walked up beside the woman.

"Oh, really? Well, you may go, now, dearheart," the woman said, her tone pleasant.

"Yes, ma'am," I began to leave, but the man stopped me.

"is this boy one of Kirkland's?" he asked the woman.

"He might be, John," she said to him, a New England accent rooted deeply in her tone.

The man lifted me up and slung me over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes, causing all of the things I had gotten for my Master to fall out of the sack they were in. "Come along, Jane; this one might actually be worth something to Kirkland. Maybe we'll get a nice ransom out of him."

They tried to carry me away and I started screaming. I didn't stop screaming until I spotted my Master running at us, full tilt. Then I started crying, believe it or not; I had just remembered that I had lost everything I had gotten for him.

"I'm sorry, Master," I sobbed after he'd gotten me back aboard the ship.

"Come on, love, don't cry... you didn't mean to..." He smiled at me and knelt down. He touched his forehead to mine, "You were very brave, child... and very loyal. I know quite a few members of our crew that would've told those two where I was if they'd known... that's why only you knew."

"B-but... you told me to be careful... and I wasn't... I was careless... I should be punished for this..." I sobbed louder.

"...Domingo... I'm not going to punish you."

"Master..."

"...I would never hurt you. If only because you are the most loyal cabin 'boy' I've ever had... You could quickly move up the ranks... maybe even have full control of the ship all to yourself, one day..."

"...but master will never die... he promised."

"...true, but someday I will have to return to my home and remain there for the rest of my days."

"No," I said, not allowing for argument. In my childish eyes, the crew of the Sea's Bounty were a family; one that would fall apart without Master.

"...love, I have to go home sometime... just as you do..."

I paused, thinking about it. "...Okay... but you can't leave until you absolutely have to."

"I swear."

"On your honor as a pirate?"

"But, of course."

He spat in the palm of his hand and held it out to me, I mirrored his actions and shook his hand.

"I vow that I will not leave you or the rest of my crew unless I absolutely must."

And he kept that vow. Long after I went home, I asked Spain what had happened to my Master, and he said, 'England is still sailing. Hasn't docked in Britain in almost 30 years. Honestly, is he ever going to go home...?'

I just smiled and said, 'We vowed not to. We shook on it; that we would sail for as long as we could without going home.'

~.o.~


End file.
